


Please, sir

by Saz4eva



Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Bottom Yoongi, Deep Throating, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Panties, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Self-Indulgent, Spanking, Stockings, Teasing, Top Jimin, maid outfit, maid!yoongi, smutty smut smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-19 20:22:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5979892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saz4eva/pseuds/Saz4eva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So, you know that maid outfit Yoongi had to wear on Rookie King?</p><p>That's not the only time he's worn a maid outfit.<br/>(Jimin knows very well why)</p><p>aka 5k of self-indulgent maid!Yoongi smut</p>
            </blockquote>





	Please, sir

Yoongi stares at the open gift box. Contemplatively nibbling on his lower lip, his face is a combination of slight bemusement, horror and fascination (untied satin ribbon forgotten on the floor). The others have gone out for night, wanting to spend their whole day off to the fullest. Apparently though, Jimin had other plans (involving him). 

Usually, he and stockings don’t mix. The furthest involvement he’s had with stockings is having to put them on his head as game punishments on broadcasts. Somehow, Yoongi has the slightest inclination that this might be even more humiliating. He didn’t think that Jimin would _actually_ take him seriously when he off-handedly mentioned a curiosity for finding out what wearing stockings would feel like.  
  
He swallows. A bit of pride goes down his throat too.  
  
_Well…No harm in finding out, I guess._

He lifts the sheer white stockings out of the blue satin box, admiring the slight sheen on it. Then he looks down at what was underneath the stockings, and his jaw _drops._ __  
  
  
*   *   *   *   *   *  
  


“Park Jimin, what the _fuck_ did you buy? What the _fuck_ is this?”

Yoongi is agitatedly clutching the black stockings and a maid costume (a fucking, honest-to-god _maid costume_ ) as he interrogates Jimin, who’s just come out of the shower.

Jimin’s eyes widen. _Shit. I was meant to hide that._

“Hyung, uh…”

“Look, I know the maid costume thing was funny and all, but _seriously?_ Like what the fuck, is this some kink you have?”

Jimin swallows, blush faint on his cheeks, gaze averted. “…Maybe.”

Yoongi huffs, looking away from Jimin, as he flops down on to the couch, arms crossed. He’s not _that_ upset but this is…  
  
“Look, babe, I didn’t mean for you to find out like this. Like, I wanted it to be a surprise – the good kind.” Jimin sits down next to Yoongi. “I promise I’ll tell you about these sort of things in the future, okay?”

Yoongi glares at him.

Jimin nudges his shoulder against Yoongi’s arm affectionately. “Hey. Remember what we said at the beginning of all this?” He reminds him gently. “That we’d be open to new stuff and try things out right?”

Sighing, Yoongi grumbles “It’s not like I’d _hate_ wearing a maid costume, but you just have to fucking _tell_ me about it. What am I supposed to do when I suddenly just find an honest-to-god maid costume in our dorm? Where _anybody_ could find it?!” God, he’d never live it down if Jungkook or Tae ever caught whiff of this. Especially Jungkook. That maknae could be such a little shit sometimes.

Jimin gives his arm a gentle squeeze. “Yeah. I know, I know. Sorry.” Yoongi turns to stare petulantly at him, and just as he does, Jimin catches his lips in a soft, chaste kiss.  Despite his mood, Yoongi finds his eyelids fluttering closed, leaning into Jimin’s warmth.  As they drift apart, Yoongi casts a sideways glance to his boyfriend.

“Hmph. Well, I guess the ‘surprise’ bit worked.” That gets a giggle from Jimin, whose smirk turns into something a little more.

“Well…I was thinking of how _interesting_ it’d be for my cute,” He pecks Yoongi on the nose, “wonderful,” on his cheek, “ _sexy,”_ peppers his jawline with kisses, “boyfriend to wear a maid costume.” Nibbling on Yoongi’s earlobe, he starts to stroke his thigh, throatily whispering “How _gorgeous_ you’d look in those stockings.” Gently nipping along the outer edge of Yoongi’s ear, he can hear the slightest hitch in Yoongi’s breath. Jimin smirks as he mouths down his neck, Jimin’s plush lips sucking on Yoongi’s pale, heated skin, tongue occasionally darting out.

Jimin shifts to straddle him on his lap, gently pulling Yoongi’s crossed arms apart so he can pull him in for a proper kiss. Yoongi leans into the wet warmth of Jimin’s mouth – lips parted with tongues brushing hotly against each other. He’s not sure how long they spend kissing – it could’ve been minutes or hours but all Yoongi can feel is his head in a daze, swallowing shakily as his heavy breathing starts to subside. It takes a moment for his brain to get back into working order again.

Properly mollified, Yoongi concedes. “Okay. But you said surprise right? So no peeking when I change into it.”

Jimin pouts a little.

“ _No_ peeking _.”_ Yoongi insists. _That’ll teach him a little._ “Now get off me, you’re heavy.”

Jimin suddenly had a thought – after all, Yoongi had only mentioned the maid costume and stockings…

“Hyung~”

“Hmm?” Yoongi is about to close the bedroom door.

“Make sure you wear _everything_ that’s in the box.”  
  


*   *   *   *   *   *  
  


_Everything_ _in the box?_

Yoongi braces himself as he lifts the cardboard divider out of the gift box.

_Oh._

He chews the inside of his cheek, staring for a good while at the black kitten heels and white cotton panties in the box.

_Well._

_Might as well go all out if I’m doing this._

First, he strips. Everything, even his underwear goes. He hopes that everything in the box will fit him alright, especially seeing how small the panties and stockings are. Stepping into to the white panties, the difference in shape and size to his normal underwear makes it feel a little awkward over his legs as he pulls it up. To his relief, the fit is snug, but not too constricting – the plain cotton material nice and soft against his crotch. Next he puts on the lacy garter belt, settling just above the waistband of the panties.

He unzips the dress – a little crumpled from him holding it agitatedly – and steps into it, dragging it up and threading his arms through. The material feels soft and cool against his body. There’s a little bit of difficulty zipping up the back (Why back zippers?? Why not side zippers where someone inflexible like Yoongi doesn’t have to entertain the possibility of pulling a muscle just to wear the dress properly?) – in the end he just gives up, leaving the top slightly unzipped. Ugh. He wasn’t sure he’d completely fit the dress anyway.

Yoongi then carefully, oh-so-carefully slides on the thigh-high stockings (he nearly loses his balance so he settles his butt firmly on the bed to prevent any mishaps). It’s an entirely unfamiliar feeling to have something so delicate wrapped tightly around his legs – he faintly remembers the feeling of wearing leggings under his shorts occasionally around the time of Bangtan’s debut but this…

This is different. Strange. Exposed. But not bad, no – he admires the sheen of the stockings that hug the shape and curve of his lean legs tightly, the white colour accentuating his already pale skin. How he feels the warmth of his hand stroking gently over his calves and thighs, the tightness of the stockings drawing out heat from his palm.

And finally, he slips on the kitten heels. Once he stands in them, it’s simultaneously easier and harder than he expected it to be – no, he’s not falling over on his face but it’s not like he can really walk normally in them either. He half totters, half shuffles over to the wardrobe to open out the full-length mirror.  
  
He looks...good. The dress is embarrassingly short though, he thinks as he bends over to adjust how the shoes fit on his feet. The dress does little to hide his ass once he’s bent down – the petticoat underneath fluffs the dress out, rather than down, and anyone standing behind him would be blessed with a pretty damn good view (if he does say so himself). Yoongi twirls around, getting a feel for walking and standing in the shoes (they pinch his feet a bit too much, though) – and he kind of likes the way the skirt swishes around his thighs when he turns. He’s still trying to get over the strangeness of the silhouette of his clothing, when all he ever sees in the mirror is skinny jeans and tees – it’s disconcerting. Different. But the good kind of different.

Yoongi almost doesn’t hear Jimin knocking on the door and Jimin doesn’t wait for him either, peeking in as he opens the door. His jaw drops open, leaving the door to swing open by itself.

Jimin stares. Drinks up the sight of his boyfriend in a maid costume – his pale, slender legs shuffling slightly as Yoongi nervously shifts his weight on the black kitten heels. The way the skirt bounces slightly, curving over his cute bottom, and how it cinches tightly around his waist. Even the fact that Yoongi couldn’t quite zip up all the way to the top because his chest and shoulders stretch out the fabric drives Jimin a little crazy. It’s absolutely _maddening._

There is nothing he can do, except stare at Yoongi and swallow thickly at the gorgeous sight.

“What?” Yoongi asks. Jimin has a vague impression he might be drooling. As each moment passes, Yoongi starts to feel a blush creep up his neck.  
  
“You idiot, I asked you what. Why are you staring so goddamn hard?” That jerks Jimin out of his daze.

“I- uh,” He starts. Swallows again. _God, he looks amazing._ But Yoongi doesn’t wait for Jimin to answer.  
  
“Ugh, well if it looks so horrible on me, just say so.” He huffs, eyes rolling, fingers nervously tugging at the collar, ears red. “I could just take it off and we’d– ”  
  
_Oh hell no._ “What? No!” Jimin tugs Yoongi’s hand away from his neck, and holds Yoongi’s face in both of his small hands.  
  
“No.” Yoongi’s kind of confused into speechlessness, and Jimin cheekily takes advantage of that, gently squishing and rolling his cheeks around.

“Look at you. You’re so cute.” Yoongi just deadpan stares at him, still confused (and also with half a mind to berate him for being a brat). Jimin tugs him closer, wrapping his arms around Yoongi’s waist to pull them flush together. If anything, it should be Yoongi who would singing out praises for Jimin’s body, who would kiss his jawline and tell him how much he loves his chubby cheeks, and his tight ass, and his absolutely adorable eye smile, and how endearing it is when he laughs so hard he squeaks, when Jimin cannot see anything but the disgusting (Yoongi insists it’s cute) fat on his body; kisses and sucks Jimin’s cock so well that Jimin can’t even remember his own name, let alone the misery and revulsion he draws from looking in the mirror.

But not today.

Today is Yoongi’s turn to be pampered and Jimin has quite some ideas in store for them. For one, that maid outfit looks utterly ravishing on Yoongi and Jimin wants nothing but to immediately rip it off him and fuck him raw into the bed.

But that’s no fun.

So instead, they kiss slowly, the gentle burn of their mouths hot against each other, blending and melting together inch-by-inch, the aroused hitches in their breathing totally audible in the otherwise silent room.

“Mm. You look so good. So lovely. So perfect.” Jimin murmurs, giving Yoongi’s cute butt a firm squeeze as he kisses at the underside of Yoongi’s jaw. Yoongi doesn’t reply, can’t and won’t reply but just stares at the wall with a slight blush over his cheeks. Jimin chuckles, knowing fully that Yoongi is flustered at his compliments, cock probably half-hard already even without being touched.

It feels nice, really nice – Yoongi thinks, but it’s not enough. Neediness awakened, he grinds helplessly against Jimin, as the younger sucks a deep, purple bruise into the crook just below Yoongi’s collarbone. Jimin tuts, pulls away, the lack of warmth drawing a whine from Yoongi.

“Baby. Do you need help being a good boy?” Jimin asks, eyebrow arched.

Yoongi swallows. Handcuffs sound tempting, but…

“N-no…I can be a good boy for you.”

“For who?” The demand is insistent, almost threatening. The way Jimin slides into his dominant side who knows and gets _exactly_ what he wants leaves Yoongi slightly breathless.

“For you, s-sir.”

The slight quirk on Jimin’s lips tells Yoongi that he’s pleased with how he’s been behaving so far.

“Good boy. Now, on your knees.”

“Yes, sir.” Yoongi bends down, heels clacking awkwardly as he kneels. Jimin tugs his semi-hard cock out of his shorts (and thanks his past self for choosing not to wear underwear today) to point it into Yoongi’s face, tapping the head against Yoongi’s outstretched tongue. _So eager._ He gives it a few kittenish licks (Jimin thinks it’s quite cute) before engulfing the throbbing cock into the wet heat of his mouth. Jimin sighs, content at the pleasure pooling into his gut. Jimin’s scent – faint, but still there after his shower, mingled with the clean soapy smell makes Yoongi want to nuzzle even further against Jimin’s crotch. Shifting his weight and angle, Yoongi bobs up and down around the head and slit of his hardening cock, before sinking down entirely around Jimin’s length.

_Shit._

Jimin groans, low and breathy. The thick and heavy feeling of his fat cock growing hard on Yoongi’s tongue is heady and intoxicating, Yoongi’s eyelids fluttering closed on instinct. Jimin sees it, and reprimands Yoongi by telling him to keep his eyes open. But at that very moment, Yoongi chooses to swallow thickly and moan at the cock in his mouth at same time, the mixed sensations creating an overwhelming urge to buck up into Yoongi’s mouth. Although as masochistic Yoongi can get sometimes (Jimin has never seen someone so committed to his own pride that it could take 3 hours of teasing and torture just to make Yoongi say please), injuring his throat doesn’t seem like a good idea – after all, facing their manager’s wrath is not to be taken lightly. So instead, a sharp tug on Yoongi’s mint hair forces him up for air. Seeing him with his pretty pink mouth open, tongue visible, lips swollen and panting in arousal does _things_ to Jimin but nevertheless, their rules must be followed. Yoongi, no matter how cute, is not to be spoiled unnecessarily.

“I said, baby,” Yoongi casts his eyes upwards in petulant desire at Jimin’s firm tone, “Open your eyes. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir.” Yoongi dutifully answers, voice slightly cracking and hoarse already. _Fuck, he’s already like this._ Jimin then pushes Yoongi back down to swallow his cock. This time, as slowly and carefully as he can in his aroused state, Jimin thrusts shallowly into Yoongi’s mouth. Drool starts to pool down and dribble down his mouth, lost in the heaviness of Jimin’s cock and how _close_ he is to Jimin right now – every squeeze and lick and moan, Jimin immediately feels. It’s _wonderful._

“So good for me, mouth full of cock. Y--uhn, you like that, don’t you?”

Yoongi can only half-grunt, half-moan in response. Jimin tugs his hair, _hard,_ and Yoongi comes up to gasp at the air like he’s drinking water.

“Baby. Answer me.”

Panting and swallowing, Yoongi barely manages a “Yes, sir.” It feels so amazing, to be degraded and subservient like this. No social boundaries or shitty, practiced mannerisms, just him and Jimin.

Jimin, whose strong arms pull him up to stand, pushes him down to bend over the dresser. It’s exposing to be in a maid outfit (and in panties and heels, god the _panties_ especially). It’s doubly embarrassing to bent down – back arched and ass up for Jimin to play with. He can just _feel_ the blush creeping up his neck and face and spreading down his body.

He’s painfully aware of how hard and how untouched he is, wet spot growing damp in his panties, but won’t beg, no, he’s not going to give in to that.

“I’ve barely even touched you. Look at that – leaking all over your cute panties, like the little _slut_ you are.”

Yoongi breathes out a barely-audible whine. He wouldn’t ever admit it but the words go straight to his dick, straining even further against the thin fabric of his white panties. Jimin slides his hand under the layers of petticoat to stroke at Yoongi’s thigh, gently kneading and rubbing along the pale, sensitive flesh of his leg and up, around on his bottom to give an affectionate squeeze. He kisses the back of Yoongi’s neck, gentle caresses of his lips progressing down Yoongi’s back as Jimin slowly unzips the dress, small hands soft yet heavily warm around his waist. 

Yoongi is so _turned on_ and it’s no-fucking-where near enough to satisfy him. He bites back the urge to whine (after all Yoongi doesn’t whine, it’s not what good boys should do). Yoongi can’t really tell, but it’s taking an enormous amount of self-control for Jimin to take it this slow. Still, Jimin takes the time to pepper kisses all over his back, to whisper sweet words of praise over the slight tremor of his body, mouthing hotly over Yoongi’s skin as he nips and licks over and in-between his shoulder blades, down the dip of his back, peeling off the dress as he coaxes Yoongi to come out of his stubborn shell. To lure out the sweet Yoongi he knows that abandons all self-control under the layers of persistent pride and coarse words, and the one that gets straight to the point like he always does. No dilly-dallying or shy pretences, just pure _need_.

But to get there – it takes time and patience. Jimin is more than willing to spend that on Yoongi, especially when he looks so _pretty,_ skin marked red and raw, pink spots blooming hot and beautiful all over his back. Off comes the dress, Yoongi lifting himself momentarily off the dresser table, sliding it down his wonderful, slim legs (Yoongi usually thinks they’re scrawny chicken legs but Jimin insists otherwise – they didn’t coin them ‘girl-group-legs’ for nothing), the wood of the table cold against his chest. Jimin then unfastens the garters, and slides the garter belt down, down, slowly at a snail’s pace. Yoongi starts to grit his teeth, but bites back his impatience. He _did_ say he’d be a good boy, after all. Once Yoongi steps out of the garter belt, Jimin flings it aside as he slowly, gently, kisses up Yoongi’s legs through the stockings, fingertips trailing teasingly over the fabric and over the sensitive skin on the back of his knees and thighs. The torturous pace that Jimin has set leaves Yoongi twitching at the slightest sensation. By the time Jimin reaches to tug at the panties, he can feel Yoongi’s muscles clenching and unclenching in tense anticipation, the slight hitch of an inhale as he pulls the underwear aside, but not off, and grasps his ass cheeks to spread him open.

The first lick has Yoongi gasping at the hot wetness on his hole, then shuddering an exhale of the breath that he didn’t realise he’d been holding. Jimin brings his hand to cup Yoongi’s cock through his panties, grinning at the damp spot. He licks again, tonguing harder at the puckered muscle, palming Yoongi’s cock carefully. It’s delightful, to feel his hole fluttering in pleasure over Jimin’s sucking and licking, the damp softness of his tongue making Yoongi squirm. Yoongi doesn’t know if he should be arch up to seek more of Jimin’s tongue, or buck in against the hand on his cock. Jimin knows it’s enough for him to feel it well, but not _enough,_ his hips instinctively bucking up, desperately seeking more friction, more feeling, just _more._ Jimin takes his hand away to grab at both cheeks, leaving Yoongi fidgeting at the loss of warmth, yet writhing at the depth of Jimin’s tongue in his hole.

“Nnngh.” He groans breathlessly. It’s like they’ve barely progressed at all in what seems to have been hours of foreplay.

It must be so embarrassing, Yoongi thinks, because he feels like he’s so wet that his panties must be see-through by now, that he’s so needy and horny right now, with what seems like no chance of getting off at the rate Jimin’s going at currently. He’s been teased enough. He hasn’t whined or been disobedient – he’s been good _. Good enough to fucking deserve to get off, at least. Fucking hell. Fuck you, Park Jimin._

Yoongi’s not exactly the loudest in the bedroom, but Jimin can just _feel_ him sulking. Yoongi hasn’t uttered a word, but Jimin can see it – he wants to cry, wants to beg but he thinks he’s too prideful for that.  
  
Jimin won’t stand for that. As woeful as Yoongi might be at the moment, he can’t have his baby boy being haughty like that.

“Baby~” He coos into Yoongi’s ear. “You’ve been so good. Taking it _so_ well. I can see how well you’re behaving.” Yoongi gasps at the fingers lightly massaging his perineum, twitching at Jimin probing the sensitive flesh between his balls and his anus. The low, thrumming heat of pleasure prickles yet again in his gut, and Yoongi has his hopes up once again.  Licking and nibbling at his ears and neck, Jimin grabs the lube sitting in the table corner ( _how convenient,_ he muses) and pours enough to slick up two fingers. The click of the cap closing over the bottle sends a shiver down Yoongi’s spine in anticipation. Yoongi stiffens at the first finger, entering slowly – to him it feels like it’s the first time he’s been properly touched, the solid feeling keep him grounded. Jimin gradually works the finger in and out as he teasingly circles his fingertips over Yoongi’s cock. As he ( _finally_ , Yoongi huffs silently) pushes in the second finger, he starts to palm at his dick. The low thrum of pleasure grows into an insistent burn, hotter by the second as Jimin starts to put in a slicked-up third finger. The liberal amount of lube Jimin has used makes an obscene, slippery squelching noise as he thrusts in and out. Yoongi is almost dizzy from pleasure, his body so goddamn oversensitive from Jimin’s painfully slow teasing, and when Jimin yanks at his hair to lift him up, back arched, fingers crooked upwards, pressing into that sweet, _sweet_ spot – Yoongi swears he sees stars.

“Ahhn!” The moan spilling uncontrollably from his throat, he frantically scrabbles to hold on to the table, to keep him grounded from floating into the intense pleasure swirling over what seems like his whole _being._

“Do you want more?” Jimin asks throatily into Yoongi’s ear.

“Y-Hn, yes! Yes, sir!”

“You’re such a good boy. And you know what good boys do?” Jimin presses even harder against Yoongi’s prostate.

“W-what, s-sir?” Shuddering gasps are forced out as Yoongi answers.

“Good boys are polite and say please. Good boys _beg_ for it.” Yoongi is panting heavily now. “Say please~” Jimin coos. But all Yoongi can understand is the ringing in his ears, the heat in his gut that burns through him like a furnace, thoughts scrambled and incoherent. He’s not sure what Jimin really wants from him, he just knows he needs _more._

“No?” Jimin withdraws his fingers. Yoongi positively _writhes_ at the loss, sobbing as he bucks up in search for any sort of friction, he just _needs_ to be touched. “Not gonna beg for me?” Yoongi just pouts, frustrated at the constant lack of gratification. “Still no?” Jimin offers a third chance.

 _Hmph. Still stubborn as ever._ Jimin also knows that under the layers of obstinacy, Yoongi really, really enjoys this. So they keep playing the game.

“ _Listen_ to me. You’re behaving badly.” Jimin, brow furrowed, firmly grabs Yoongi’s shoulders to direct him to sit on the bed.

 “You must answer me when I ask you questions. And you must obey what I say, understood?”  
Yoongi nods mutely, eyes downcast. Jimin grips his jaw, forcing Yoongi to turn to look Jimin square in the face.

“Understood?”

Yoongi swallows. “Yes, sir.” He says quietly, but clearly.

“Alright. Bend over my lap, baby.”

 _One._ The first spank jolts Yoongi out of his slightly limbless state of feeling.

 _Two. The_ second one comes down and Yoongi feels a whimper drawn out of his mouth.

 _Three._ The third one hits, and it _stings._

“Only I,” _Four._ “get to do this.” _Five._ “I own you.” _Six. “_ I can choose to do,” _Seven._ “whatever,” _Eight._ “I,” _Nine._ “want.”

The low growls coming out of Jimin’s mouth are so uncharacteristic and _hot._ Despite the pain, it makes Yoongi’s dick grow impossibly harder. Jimin thinks it’s cute how Yoongi’s cock peeks out, throbbing and straining against the panties.

_Ten._

Yoongi is a moaning, uncontrollable mess – it hurts, his member is throbbing so hard, but it hurts so _good._ The pain fused with pleasure has drawn him taught – so tight it’s agony – impossibly stretched and ready to snap at any moment.

“Babe. Do you me to fuck you?”

 _Does he want Jimin to fuck him? He’s been wanting to be fucked since he put on that goddamn maid dress, does he want it? God-fucking-yes he does – “_ I want it so bad, sir! I want you to fuck me so hard, I don’t even know who I am, God, yes just fuck, hah, ram into me until I can’t think anymore, please, sir, please! I’ll do, I’ll do anything, just please, please, _please_ – ” Yoongi doesn’t realise he’s babbling, until he vaguely feels Jimin’s length probing his hole, and – _oh._

Oh _fuck._

All rambling and incoherent thought ceases to be. All Yoongi can do is clench hotly around Jimin’s cock, jaw agape at how full he feels. Squeezing so tight, so _hot_ over his cock, it takes Jimin every ounce of restraint to ease through slowly. Yoongi can't but help groan breathily at the fullness, the thickness of his cock.

And then Jimin just stops.

His length is just there, barely brushing against his prostate. It makes him _squirm_. Yoongi thinks he might just cry, that's how wound up he is.

' _Please._ ' The whimper leaves Yoongi's mouth before he even realises and the weakness, the submissiveness, the neediness in Yoongi's voice just sets Jimin off and he _snaps._

It’s nothing like before.

Jimin fucks him raw, hard - almost at a punishing pace, and Yoongi can only float into helplessness, moaning and scrabbling into the sheets. The tidal wave of pleasure sweeps him from reality and he can only hold on and hope he emerges unscathed from the overwhelming intensity. It's almost dangerous, Yoongi thinks through the haze, how _amazing_ this feels. Garbled syllables and half-formed sentences tumble loudly out of his mouth – “Yes, yes, yesyesyes Jimin just ah- like that- ye- _eeesss!”_

The pressure builds, builds and builds and Jimin chases the feeling - he thinks it's absolutely beautiful to see Yoongi all pliant, making all the hoarse, breathless moans and lovely whimpers coming out of his throat. It’s exquisite, how unabashedly Yoongi opens himself up, exposing every inch for Jimin to exploit. _This_ is the Yoongi that he’s been trying to find. The one that begs for it shamelessly, who tries to follow his every word and command, who breathes lustful music into his ears.

Each thrust presses into his prostate, and Yoongi is _gone_ – almost wailing in the intense passion. The constant pressure on that one spot melts him into a limp puddle of heat. They’re both close to orgasm and they’ve been at it far too long to care about anything else but reaching that hot, white pleasure. Jimin reaches to palm at Yoongi’s crotch, fingers dancing around the sensitive head of his dick, thumb pressing into the slit, and the other hand toying at his nipple and it’s all too much, too much –

“Shit, g-gonna cum, hah, I’m, ah, AH, g-gonna, _gonna_ –”

There’s nothing.

Yoongi’s mind is blank, emptied of thoughts save for the pure pleasure flooding his veins and he is cumming, cumming _hard_ all over Jimin’s hand and the panties, some of it even dribbling down to his stockings. He’s shaking, trembling at how everything around him has shattered and tries not to break apart under the explosion of heat. Jimin rides it out with him, and only when Yoongi starts to slowly, very slowly, come back down and focus with clarity on what is happening, that he realises the broken mewls and hoarse cries he hears are coming out of his own mouth. Jimin continues to fuck him, revelling in how Yoongi tightens even more after orgasm, thrusting frantically as he nears his climax  For Yoongi, it feels good, but too good and it hurts too – god, he might lose his fucking mind from the overstimulation.

“Yoongi-ah I’m...Ah!” Jimin chokes out as he rams into Yoongi’s hole, wet warmth filling him up. Yoongi squeezes tightly and Jimin sighs at how he milks out the cum. Sated, they both collapse onto the bed in a boneless heap.

It’s a good while before they settle back into their senses, Jimin still inside Yoongi as they cuddle – deep, content breathing fills the silence of the room.

“How was it, hyung?” Jimin asks, voice muffled as he nuzzles into Yoongi’s shoulder.

 “It was good. I liked it.” Yoongi hums contentedly. “I liked it a lot.” He feels Jimin smirk happily against his skin. Yoongi stares hazily around room, until his eyes settle on the clock and – _oh crap, it’s nearly eleven o’ clock, the boys will be back anytime_ , and sits up abruptly, jolting them both out of their daze. Jimin just flops lazily onto Yoongi’s lap instead.

“Yah. Get off me you muscle pig, before anyone sees us like this.” He rushes to clean himself up and change into different clothes. Jimin watches, and thinks to himself - he gets to have Yoongi and his different sides for him, and _only_ him to see.  

Jimin giggles. It’s nice.

Wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> so like i said - self-indulgent 
> 
> would love to hear what y'all think! Comments give me life~~~~


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